


Plushies

by PostApocolypticAlien



Category: The X-Files
Genre: 3am writings, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 15:28:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18813700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PostApocolypticAlien/pseuds/PostApocolypticAlien
Summary: Mulder finds Scully's childhood plushie.





	Plushies

He didn’t intend to look for it, this time. The fact that she might’ve still owned one hadn’t even crossed his mind. It was pure accident and she hadn’t done that great of a job at hiding it anyway.

A lazy morning stretch, his hand had creeped beneath Scully’s pillow where his fingers had grazed something soft. Ever the curious one, he’d pulled it out from underneath, not expecting to see what his eyes were looking at.

A rabbit.

Years old and worn out, the thing looked to be on its last legs: its once dark grey fur had faded to a lighter version, patches covered its body from head to legs with evidence of a band aid mark over one of them- Mulder smiles at that, imaging a child version of Dr Scully tending to the wounds of her first patient- Only one of the original beady black eye remains, the other replaced with a button sown perfectly in place. The left floppy ear, on the other hand, Mulder is surprised it hasn’t fallen off yet. Unlike the button eye, the ear is haphazardly sown on, dangling by two threads that just about manage to hold it in place- Mulder wonders if the rabbit had been a test subject for Scully’s poor attempt at sowing.

When he flips the plush over he notices for all the other successful rescue attempts on the rabbit’s physical state, a tail was lost in battle. Some things just can’t be saved.

“This has been put through the wringer, hasn’t it?”

“What?” Scully stops her rummaging through her drawers and turns towards Mulder, her eyes falling down to the teddy in his hand.

Eyes widening, she snatches it from him, ramming it into the drawer she’d just been in.

“Hey, you shouldn’t snatch-” Mulder begins.

“You weren’t meant to find that,” Scully says, talking over him.  
Her blush doesn’t go unnoticed as she shuts the drawer with a bit more force than necessary.

“I didn’t set out to find it,” he tells her, his words offered as some sort of apology.

“I know,” she answers standing up. “Just forget about it.”  
She heads for the bathroom leaving Mulder to sit there, staring at the drawer that hides the rabbit, wondering what the big deal was.

With a sigh, he pushes away the bed sheets, following her to her bathroom.  
Leaning against the door frame, he watches her brush her teeth. Waiting until she’s almost finished before he begins his questioning.

“What’s its name?” He asks.

Their gaze meet through the mirror and she rolls her eyes.

“Mulder…” a protest rolls off her tongue.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed off, we all have one.”

“Had,” she corrects, placing the toothbrush back in its hold. “Most dignified adults get rid of it as soon as they can.”

“You’d be surprise,” a chuckle escapes. “Some of the homes we’ve been in.” A pause as Scully looks away, silently praying that that’s an end to this conversation.

“So go on,” Mulder says and Scully groans. “Tell me, what his name?”

Mulder waits, wonders what extravagant, over the top name baby Scully would have called her childhood plushie.

“Rabbit,” she says with a final sigh.  
Mulder can’t help the laugh that breaks free.

“Don’t laugh!” Scully whines and Mulder shakes his head.

“I’m sorry,” he says, still laughing slightly. “Just…out of all the names I thought you’d come up with, I hoped it would be something more original.”

“Yeah, well, I was two.” Scully answers, pushing past him. Mulder follows once more.

“If it makes you feel better, I still have my bear,” he tells her and before she asks her question, he answers. “I think I settled on Spock eventually.”

A smile breaks out across her face. “I’ve never seen him in your apartment.”

Mulder shrugs, “He’s somewhere within all the clutter.”  
He moves then, over to the drawer that Rabbit is still residing in. He opens it, pulling the mattered thing out and looking down at it.

“Who gave it to you?”

“My dad.”  
He looks to her then, seeing the sadness flit across her face. Her gaze is entirely on the rabbit and, while before, she’d looked upon the thing with offensive and distaste, now she beholds it with love and memories, as if seeing its value and sentimentality for the first time.

With a sideways smile to her, Mulder sets Rabbit down on the table and begins fiddling with the sheets.

“What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer her and only when it becomes clear what his plan is does she laugh.

“Mulder, when was the last time you made a bed?”

A while ago, they both surmise but it’s good enough to serve the purpose Mulder wants it to.

Propping up the pillows, Mulder picks up Rabbit, settling the poor thing against them in the middle.

It doesn’t sit up for long before it flops over to the side but it’s good enough.

“There,” he says, glancing over to her. “He’s nothing to be ashamed of.”


End file.
